


Hoshi's Box

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8079952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Hoshi finds a small box in her chair at the communications station. Spoilers, 2.10 "Vanishing Point."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Response to Taryn's EWB Writer's Block Party exercise: Hoshi finds a small box in her chair at the communications station. Show me what is in the box, her reaction to it, and what it all means.  


* * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato pulled her chair out, not wanting to be on the bridge at all today. Yesterday she had endured her first transporter experience and lost eight precious seconds of her life—eight seconds of fear, indecision, and finally determination. Today was her first duty shift since that nightmare had ended, but she still felt unnerved by the experience. She really didn't want to be on the bridge today.

Looking down at her chair, Hoshi stared at the oblong box. Innocuously wrapped in plain brown paper, the box sat primly on the chair, seemingly awaiting comment. Gingerly picking up the box with both hands, Hoshi mentally gauged its weight, held it to her ear, and shook it gently, disappointed to hear nothing rattle inside. However, she could have sworn she heard something ticking.

"What's this?" she asked Ensign Travis Mayweather. It was obvious from the shaking of his shoulders that he was laughing, and Hoshi was certain that the helmsman, known for his practical jokes, was playing her for a fool.

Turning slightly to look, Travis shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like a box." He shot a nervous glance toward Commander Trip Tucker before turning back to his duties.

"Commander?" Hoshi caught the helmsman's glance and turned her attention to the chief engineer. Slightly shaking the box, she fired off questions, fighting to quell her apprehension that she was once again the butt of today's joke. "What is this? Where did it come from? How did it get here? And why is it on my chair?"

"Well now, Hoshi—from over here, it kinda looks like a box. As for the rest of your questions—it beats me." Trip shrugged, then quickly dropped his gaze to his console. However, the quirky smile that flitted across his face belied both his attention to duty and his knowledge of "the box".

Hoshi stared from Travis to Trip, noticing Trip's sly glance towards the armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Still holding the small box aloft, she turned her attention to Malcolm. "Lieutenant? I'm about to lose my patience. Since _these two_ ," she hesitated, her eyes shooting daggers at both the helmsman and engineer, "are no help, perhaps you can answer my questions."

"Questions, Ensign? Did you ask—?"

Hoshi leaned on the back of the chair, still holding the box, and tapped her foot impatiently. Her cold sweeping glance around the bridge lowered the temperature several degrees, and all three men shivered.

"Oh, er...yes, that box." Malcolm ceased tapping buttons at the tactical station and stared thoughtfully at the mysterious box. "Hmm, from this distance, I should estimate that the box is approximately thirty centimeters long, twenty-five centimeters wide, and ten centimeters deep. It appears to be wrapped in plain paper of some thickness, brown in color. As for the other questions, I...can't say...precisely." Apparently believing that to be the end of the discussion, Malcolm returned to punching buttons on his console, avoiding Hoshi's icy glare.

"Damn," Tucker said to the lieutenant. "You're gettin' more Vulcan every day." Quietly he walked over to Malcolm, passing behind him, and stopped to peer over the tactical officer's shoulder. "Wonder if your ears'll get all pointy?"

Hoshi stamped her foot and lifted the box aloft, waving it above her head. "Hel-lo! Will someone _please_ tell me about this box?"

At that moment the turbolift opened, admitting Captain Jonathan Archer and Sub-commander T'Pol to the bridge. "Hoshi, what's that you're holding?" the captain asked, smiling at his communications officer.

"That is what I would like to know," Hoshi said, enunciating each word. She cast dark suspicious stares at Travis, Malcolm, and Trip.

"Ensign," interrupted T'Pol, "perhaps you should check for a name attached to the package?"

"Oh, um, yes, Sub-commander." Hoshi felt sheepish as she lowered the box and searched all sides, finally finding the name, "Hoshi Sato", on a small printed label. "Oh, it _is_ for me. But why? It's not my birthday. It's not Christmas."

"Won't find out till ya open it." Tucker freely gave his opinion while continuing to watch Malcolm work. Occasionally he glanced at the lieutenant's ears and smirked.

"Do you mind?" muttered Malcolm. "I'm quite capable of handling my own duties, _sir_."

"Ahem." The captain shot a warning glance to the two squabbling men before turning a smiling face to Hoshi. "I'm sure there is nothing harmful to you hidden in that box. Please, go ahead and open it."

Cautiously, Hoshi sat down in her chair and slipped a fingernail along the seam to gently pry up the fastening substance. As she pulled off the paper, she gasped at the beautiful lacquer box. Turning it right side up, she rubbed her fingers across the tortoiseshell design, inhaling the light woody aroma, and then read the engraving: TRANSPORTER EMERGENCY KIT. PROPERTY OF H. SATO.

"What?" She looked at the captain, while noting that Travis, sitting next to her, was softly giggling.

"Yes, Hoshi. We realized after your ordeal yesterday that you were not equipped with the latest gear." The captain, still smiling, glanced to Malcolm and Trip, motioning with a slight nod for one of them to continue the explanation.

"That's right, Hoshi," said Trip. "Ya see, the Cap'n's been through the transporter once and Malcolm's done it twice now, and they both, uh..."

"We felt," Malcolm chimed in as Trip faltered, "that if the transporter were to be used regularly for humans, then proper safety protocols should be initiated. Since we have emergency kits for the shuttlepods, we felt the same should be provided for anyone using the transporter."

Malcolm, Trip, and the captain all nodded in agreement. Travis fixed his gaze on the viewscreen, his giggles reduced to occasional sniggers.

Hoshi, skeptical at what she considered to be a lame explanation at best, slowly opened the lovely box. No snakes, fake or live, greeted her. Instead, she spied seven individually wrapped packages tightly filling the box from side to side and top to bottom.

Setting the box on her lap, Hoshi lifted out a smooth soft bundle. Unwrapping the glitter-sprinkled, red tissue paper, she pulled out a set of seven pastel lace bikini panties, each labeled with a day of the week. She read the accompanying note: "To Hoshi, love Liz. For centuries, mothers everywhere have reminded their children to always wear their best underwear in case they're in an accident and end up in a hospital."

"Yeah, that's what my mama always said." Trip laughed. "Hold 'em up so's we can get a better look!"

"Definitely _not_ Starfleet issue, I'll wager," Malcolm added, with a sly smile lighting his face.

Quickly Hoshi tucked the lacy undies out of sight. Next she pulled out a slim square box. Inscribed on the note she read: "Ensign Sato, to allay your concerns during future transports. T'Pol." Opening the box, Hoshi pulled out a small datapad with a disc. Removing the disc's covering, she read the minute printing on the label, "Transporter Technology—Then and Now."

"Ensign," T'Pol said placidly, "I believe complete knowledge about the transporter will be beneficial to you, should a future need arise for you to utilize that equipment."

After thanking Liz, who had slipped in unnoticed, and T'Pol, Hoshi continued unwrapping her gifts. Next she pulled out a small round package wrapped in white paper festooned with brightly colored star, moon, and sun stickers. "To Hoshi, may you always be seen clearly. Travis." Removing the paper, Hoshi found a white jar with a handwritten label across the mid section proclaiming, "UN-VANISHING CREAM", while on the back side she read, "Wrinkle remover and skin replenisher." She lightly slapped Travis on the shoulder.

"Hey, I meant this in a good way," he said with a laugh. "If you ever feel like you're vanishing again, just spread this all over yourself and you'll be un-vanished! See?" Travis pointed to the back label. "It says right here in fine print, 'Guaranteed to work in six weeks or your money back.'"

Laughing at these unique gifts, Hoshi's earlier trepidation evaporated. She picked out the next package, a thick oblong shape that was crudely wrapped in black plastic wrap and held together with gray duct tape. Instinctively, she knew this gift was from Trip before finding the nearly detached label, which simply read, "To Hoshi, best wishes, Trip". Pulling off the wrapping, she found a black plastic case with the top and bottom halves connected together on one hinged side. Hoshi opened the case, and along the bottom half lay a retractable flashlight. Beneath the flashlight lay a small toolkit with a tiny plasma torch. On the inside of the top half was a small chronometer next to a small communication device. A tiny card with even tinier writing stuck to the communicator read: "H.S. Phone home."

"Couldn't resist the little sign," Trip said. "Got the idea from that movie, E.T., that we saw the other night."

With a hearty laugh, Hoshi said, "Thanks, Trip. Um, by any chance does the communicator actually work?"

"Sure does. Of course, I had to cop the parts from the armory, and the range isn't as good as a regular communicator, but it works."

"Commander, you did what?" Malcolm, seemingly shocked at his superior officer's admitted pilferage, shot the engineer a hard look.

"Keep yer shirt on, lootenant," Trip smirked. "Y'all got a gazillion of those parts in storage. No way will ya ever miss the few I used for that little gizmo."

To distract the two feuding officers, Hoshi pulled out another gift, cooing over the small square package. Covered in a soft, silk handkerchief held together by the attached label, she read, "To Hoshi, my very dear friend. Always, Jon." Carefully removing the silk cloth, she gasped at the double gift: a square magnetic case containing a miniature chess/checker set and a tic-tac-toe game, taped atop a box of expensive chocolate truffles with a printed label proclaiming, "COMFORT FOOD. EMERGENCY USE ONLY." Giggling, she thanked the captain for knowing exactly what she liked, slipping the box of chocolates into her pocket. She was sure an "emergency" was bound to happen soon, and she wanted to be prepared.

The captain grinned. "Next time you're, umm, trapped in time, you'll have something fun to do."

Fingering the tiny magnet checkers, Hoshi smiled, trying her best to stave off the tears that threatened to spill.

Only one package remained to be opened. As she picked up the unusual triangular shape, Hoshi examined the wrapping paper, which was plain white with an intricate gold filigree design etched randomly throughout, giving the paper an exotic appearance. Looking more closely, Hoshi let out a whoop.

"This is incredible, Malcolm! Where did you get this paper?"

Noticing Malcolm's subtle shift, she realized he was beginning to blush, and she waited for him to explain.

"Um, I made that," Malcolm said quietly. "I used to watch my sister making notes and cards in calligraphy. One day she taught me, and since then I've experimented with incorporating calligraphy and art."

Travis turned around in his seat, and the captain leaned forward, both wanting to get a better look at what had captured Hoshi's fancy.

"Look," Hoshi announced. "These delicately fancy-looking letters are in French. If you follow from here," she pointed at one particular symbol, around to here, "it reads: 'Hoshi, may you always be prepared for life's unexpected emergencies. Malcolm'. The letters are interwoven with the filigree design. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Carefully preserving the wrapping as best she could, Hoshi finally freed the gift to find an opaque plastic pyramid-shaped container. She snapped open one side and found a small med kit filled with band-aids, gauze bandaging, aspirin, a vial of antiseptic, roll of surgical tape, and small scissors. Opening the other side, she was surprised to discover an equally complete sewing kit with needles, several small spools of thread, pins, and a thimble. Finally opening the bottom section of the pyramid, Hoshi was puzzled at the odd assortment of items: notepad, pen, bouillon and sugar packets, pins, compass, fishhook and spool of fishing line, tea bags and instant coffee, packet of cookies, nutrition bar, a couple of birthday candles, and a small pouch with comb, shampoo, soap, face powder, and a lipstick. She burst out laughing.

"This is a survival-slash-toiletry kit, Malcolm!"

"Of course it is, Hoshi." Malcolm grinned. "Although I'm not sure how helpful all that lot will be the next time you're lost in space. In any case, you'll certainly be ready for any contingency."

A loud beep on the communications console brought the festive mood to an end. Swinging around in her chair, Hoshi pressed a couple of buttons on her panel. "Captain, we're being hailed."

Minutes later when the alien language and the universal translator meshed together and arrangements for a first contact were set, Hoshi sat back in her seat, letting out a sigh of contentment. Glancing from the box at her feet to the crew working diligently at their stations around the bridge, she smiled. Feeling the warmth of friendship and love fill her, she silently acknowledged her appreciation for these wonderful friends. Hoshi felt glad to be home. She was especially glad to be on the bridge today.


End file.
